Coin
by dishcalledhaggis
Summary: Catch her if you can! Inspired by the band Muse, this story follows the music of the Black Holes and Revelations album. Jean is wanted on all sides, having lived into her twenties without being recruited into any Mutant organization.
1. You Will Burn

She wanted nothing more than to live her life quietly. But as her black boots ate up the pavement under them, she came to a heartbreaking realization that others wouldn't allow for that. The October night chilled her to the core despite the layers of black covering all but her panicked face and hair, she tried to keep in darkness, though the streetlights reached for her in the middle of the road.

She swallowed the sob that rose in her throat, long red waves flying like a war pennant as she tried to flee her pursuers. They were closing in, she had slipped their searching hands too many times. There was nowhere else she could hide.

She sensed their approach, calm and sure that their prize was won. Fear stalled any other way for her to defend herself, she could only run.

"Bring her here," came the bored command.

Even weighted down with her duffle bag, she put on a renewed burst of speed, thanking the years in track she took in high school. It wasn't enough, and she was knocked to the ground by a foul-smelling Mutant, Toad.

"No," she gasped, kicking out blindly.

"Bollocks," Toad grasped his groin, watching as she rolled to her feet.

"Sorry 'bout the stones," she smiled wickedly.

"You'll be sorry," he warned.

Sabretooth emerged from the dark alley, grabbed her hair and twisted, bringing her to her knees. Blinking tears back, she found her face was twisted at an angle that didn't allow for her to see much, though she could sense many more than the last chase, their open minds flooded her own at such speed she was incapacitated and close to blacking out.

"We'll cure you of being so rude," the woman of blue skin whispered in her ear.

"Don't you know when to leave well enough alone," Jean snapped as the woman's cool hands searched for weapons.

_Oh God, please help me!_

"MAGNETO!"

She closed her eyes to the bold of lightning that ripped the night in two, Sabretooth had freed her unknowingly, covering his eyes in reflexive action.

"The bloody do-gooders," Toad spat.

"Meet them," Magneto commanded.

Jean had fallen forward onto the asphalt, wet from a recent rain. The absence of pain gave her a moment to gather her wits, and looked through the legs of her captors. A group of Mutants, in dark form-fitting uniforms approached.

"You have no claim on her," Magneto drawled.

"Neither do you, bub," a rough voice growled in response.

"You do like pain, Wolverine, don't you?"

"Lets ya know yer alive," the rough voice replied.

By some unspoken word the battle began, and Jean's adrenaline-fueled blood had her running before her mind could catch up. A quick glance as she turned a corner, more than her eyes could take in for a second, and she was gone into the night.


	2. Conspire To Ignite

Logan leaned back in his War Room chair, opening the file on his lap. Though he'd rather be out chasing down a Brotherhood Mutant or two, Charles called him and Scott for this mission specifically. It had to have a redeeming quality to interest Logan, or else Charles wouldn't have bothered.  
"Scott, Logan. The Brotherhood have already tried recruiting this young woman, they have yet to succeed."  
"So we swoop in and get her for ourselves," Wolverine finished.  
"If only it were that easy."  
"What do you mean," Scott asked, not liking how that sounded.  
"She's unpredictable, to say the least."  
"Even Mustangs can be broken, Chuck."  
"True, but they retain their former selves. Always volatile, the wrong move can create chaos."  
"So you're saying this is gonna take a lot longer than only giving her the health and dental benefits," Scott smirked.  
"Nice one," Logan chuckled.  
"You'll need your good humor, believe me," Charles gave a grim smile of his own. "Since the night you attempted to intercept her, she's all but gone off the grid entirely."  
"Why don't you talk to her yourself, through Cerebro. Let me guess..."

"Telepath," Logan confirmed, and his expectations met.

Scott groaned. A rogue telepath was worse than any fire-wielding, cement-headed novice.

"This is a self-taught Telepath. She's excellent at blocking any outside voices, I have failed even in sleep," Charles' sentence was punctuated with another groan from Scott.

"Why haven't we sent someone in to meet with her," Logan asked, Storm usually went in as a neutral party.  
"This is one of very few times Erik knew something before I did," Charles admitted.

"She only got away on a technicality," Scott muttered to himself, voicing a similar thought to Logan's.

"She would have run from us as well," Logan thought out loud.

"We came to her aid."

"That doesn't mean we're the good guys in her mind," he pointed out. "Besides, her going off the grid leaves it difficult to locate her."

"I happen to have her next location."  
"Where?"

"Massachusetts, tomorrow night."

"Doing what," was Logan's next question.

"She's going to a nightclub, some sort of electronica group is playing there."  
"Oh not one of those," Logan groaned. He had chased Jubliee for a good week from club to club before he got her to come to the mansion, the thumping pulse of the endless racket still made his skin crawl.  
"I had a better pair of plugs made for your ears, Logan."  
"Great," he muttered.

"Tickets," Charles pushed the envelope in Scott's direction.  
"Wonderful," Logan left his chair and took a walk, reading the file again.

"I know you can bring her to the safety of the X-Men," Charles encouraged.

"We'll do everything in our power," Scott reassured, accepting Logan's earplugs from Charles.  
"So did he give you the mission," Rogue fell into step alongside Logan.

"Yeah," he answered, only half listening.

"Need any more help," she offered.

"You're only offering because you heard the word 'nightclub' while you were eavesdroppin'," Logan smirked.

"I'd fit right in," Rogue reasoned.

"We'll do just fine," Logan chuckled.

"Logan!"

"Not on a mission, kiddo."

Rogue folded stain-gloved arms across her chest, a sour look to her features.

"The less people on this at the moment, the better," Scott tried to reason with her.

"What group is it," Rogue demanded.

"Uh...you really wanna know," Scott smiled.

"Yeah, because ah need to torture mahself," she sighed.

"It's probably nobody you-hey, Muse! Sweet!"

She made a huffing noise, and sauntered off to pout. Scott paused in his excitement until her coattails disappeared around the corner, then caught up with Logan, who was leaning up against the wall.

"You let her get away with too much when she was a kid," Scott mentioned.

"She's just goin' through an 'I'm entitled to ask' phase," Logan shrugged it off, studying the eight-by-ten candid shot of Jean Grey. She was good-looking enough, he supposed, though her waist-length red hair was obscuring most of her face. It offset her green eyes and the freckles on her cheeks and nose. Long fingers held her hair away from her full bottom lip, a hint of pearly white teeth from her slightly parted mouth.

"Something look good to you," Scott smiled.

"A tallboy," Logan replied, accepting the earplugs with a nod of thanks.

"No doubt. Does this have the feel of a wild goose chase to you?"

"Yep," Logan sighed.

"Oh man," Scott murmured.


	3. Set My Soul Alight

"Plugs workin for you, Logan?"  
"Straightlace? You wanna do drugs," Logan shouted.  
"Worked a little too well," Scott laughed.

Logan leaned on the bar, ordering a drink.

"It's not like I'm payin' on the company card," Logan looked to Scott with a hint of annoyance.

"I'm just sayin'."

"You always do, because you can't hold your liquor," Logan taunted, briefly annoyed with Scott's drawn expression. "I'm only messin' with ya."

Scott snorted with impatience, because Logan was oblivious to the redhead that stepped up to the bar right next to him. He was too busy giving him grief to notice.

'Turn around,' he mouthed.

Logan arched a curious eyebrow and did as Scott said, his expression of confusion turning to one of interest as he watched Jean drop the shot of Bailey's into a large glass of dark beer and drink down an Irish Carbomb. Sensing she was being watched, Jean looked under her lashes at Logan and set the empty glass down, licking the foam of the drink from her upper lip.

"Hi," she smiled.

"Hey," Logan replied, watching her walk away.

"Did ya see that?"

"Sure did," Logan smirked.

"That right there was our _moment of opportunity_," Scott looked ready to pick a fight.

"Easy, Scott. We won't get her if we just leap and not look first."

"Unbelievable! Makin' eyes at our _mark_," Scott thought he had seen everything, but this was new, even for Logan.

"Catch more flies with honey than vinegar," Logan smirked at Scott, swaggering away from the bar.

"Thank you, O guru of women."  
Logan looked down from the balcony, to a group of people near the stage, and focused in on her. To say this woman was gorgeous was an understatement, while most of the drunks danced around like they were wired to a car battery, she moved slow and smooth like an animal on the dance floor, power and grace. She was a predator, just like him.  
"Logan...oh boy," Scott's mood subsided as he couldn't help from grinning.  
"Shit," Logan muttered, pulling Scott back from the railing.  
"What!"  
"Don't look now, we're outnumbered by 'paths."  
Scott looked down on the dance floor, Emma Frost and Elizabeth Braddock flanked Jean on either side. The most beautiful witches, scandalous Fates, Seers beyond ritual, and they had gotten to her first.  
"Does everyone want this girl," Logan growled.  
"Brilliant deduction, Holmes. But I wonder…does this 'everyone' include you?"  
"Shut it, Watson."  
"The last time I was near Emma she nearly scratched my eyes out."

"That's what you get for being you around a priss whose wardrobe consists of doilies as outerwear," Logan explained, not for the first time.

"Betsy was nice, though."

"Assassin," Logan reminded him.

"I'm not a half-wit."

"Yeah yeah, c'mon they're on the move."

Logan and Scott followed from the balcony, keeping the three telepaths in sight.

"I'll be damned if they get her into that bunch of man-hating, feminist rhetoric-spouting, butch-"

"They aren't butch, Logan."

"-Amazonian harpies with guns," he finished

He followed the scent of sweet Bailey's and smooth Jameson Whisky that clung to her breath.

"She's comin' up the stairs," Logan filled Scott in.

"I'll just leave you to her, then," Scott carved a pathway back to the bar.

He stayed in the shadows while she passed him, going into the ladies' room. Leaning on the balcony railing, he actually found himself enjoying the music. The smell of Bailey's and Jameson hit his nose, and he watched her walk by dressed in a long-sleeved shirt, mini, knee high combat boots, all of it blackest black; her hair styled straight and in a loose braid down her back.

"Nice skirt."

She paused on the stairs, turning smoky eyes his way. "Is that gonna follow with some sort of line."

"No, just like how it looks on you. Sort of short for this kind of weather, though."

"I manage to keep warm," she smiled.

"Just from dancing?"

"You were watching," she asked.

"Couldn't help it," he shrugged, smirking as she left the stairs to stand next to him.

"As fun as dancing is, I think you have a better view from here," she put her hand on his shoulder.

A large group milled about the bathrooms, invading the space that Jean and Logan took up. It made her nervous, and Logan had to get a chance to know her better.

"Here," he guided her to his spot as he stepped back, keeping the crowd at bay by using his arms as a barrier on either side.

"Thank you," she smiled.

Logan leaned in next to her ear. "You're welcome."

"Scott _Summers_," Emma purred with a hint of razor in her voice.

"Hi Emma," he smiled.

"What are you doing here."

"Isn't it obvious, the concert?"

"Who are you with," she stepped closer.

"Logan."

"Betsy, go."

"Sure thing," the assassin slipped into the crowd with a flash of liquid blue-black hair.

"Good to see you again," Scott stood up from his seat, a good foot taller than the blond.

"Where's Logan?'

"I lost him awhile ago, grabbed a drink and saw a skirt to chase," he shrugged.

"You have no use of her," she spat, taking a step closer.

"And you do, with two telepaths already? Fancy yourselves the Fates, the Gray Sisters, the Furies-"

"Please do spare me your annoying knowledge of Greek myth," she held up a hand, looking through the crowd. "Bastard touches her and I'll make sure his healing factor gets good use when I'm through with him-" she muttered, heading in the direction Scott left Logan.

"Here we go," he sighed.

Logan felt the icy look that only Emma Frost could give on the back of his neck.

"There you are! I thought you were coming back," Emma smiled at Jean.

"I got to talking with, I'm sorry I didn't ask your name," she chuckled, looking to Logan.

"It's Logan," Emma interrupted.

"Thanks Emma," Logan sneered.

"Emma," Jean tensed up, looking to Emma with dawning wariness.

"Gave her a fake name did you," Logan smirked.

"Didn't tell her you've met before, did you? Just a few nights ago," Emma smiled sweetly.

"Yeah, where were you when she needed help?"

"Guys, can we please talk about this," Scott tried to delegate, to not avail.

"Hey, we have a girl with yellow eyes comin' this way people," Betsy showed up, looking angry.

Jean was silent as she stood among the group of Mutants bickering among themselves, all after her as well. Did she have absolutely no one in this world she could trust? Logan was there the night Magneto tried to take her, was he one of them? The voice was vaguely familiar…She didn't have time to sort it all out, Mystique was there. She only wanted to be free of this, and to her surprise they all fell around her feet. Once again the adrenaline hit her and she hopped over the railing, dropping lightly to the lower floor and ran out the open delivery door.

"They didn't say she was a telekinetic, too," Scott groaned, trying to pick himself up off the floor.

"Nope, did not mention that," Logan stood and cracked his neck, pulling Betsy to her feet.

"Thanks, Logan."

"No problem," he sighed.

"Well, she's gone-no thanks to you," Emma scowled.

"Keep your face like that you'll need a fresh Botox injection to paralyze that demonic line that creases your forehead," Logan shot back, only making half the effort he usually would.

"What about Mystique?"

"We'll deal with her," Emma nodded to Betsy.

"Should we go after Jean," Scott asked.

"Not tonight."


	4. When We Bleed We Bleed The Same

"Hey babygirl, time to wake up."

Jean wished she could roll over and sleep a bit longer, but she was in the back of an old van, surrounded by band equipment, and this was her stop. If she didn't keep moving, they would find her. Magneto, Logan, Emma and Betsy...until she could work out who to run to, she had to run from them all.

A concerned face with kind eyes came into focus. "Babygirl, you okay?"

"Yeah Steven, I'm fine."

"I know you didn't get good enough sleep. We're stayin' at a friend's tonight," he offered, helping her out of the van.

"You've already done so much, just lettin' me ride long."

"You be careful out there, not everyone is going to treat you right," he smiled, handing over her bag after a moment of hesitation.

Jean smiled and kissed his cheek, "I'll see you soon, Steven."

"Hope so, babygirl."

Jean walked the streets of New Jersey, trying to mentally scout out the next person to impose herself upon for a night or two. She waited for the crosswalk signs to change when a man grabbed her bag. Thinking it was a Mutant, she panicked and slipped her arm free, growing angry when she realized he was a simple purse snatcher. So she chased him.

Locking onto his thought pattern, she gained a few feet on him when he paused to take a breath, lungs burning and legs straining as she pursued him relentlessly. She smiled grimly at his thought of losing her just around the next corner, he had no idea who he was messing with. A squint of her eye caused him to trip over himself, and she slowed to a walk as she held him down.

"Wh-what are you doing to me," he stammered as she kneeled, leaning over him.

"Don't steal from women, we don't like it," she snapped, grabbing her bag from his hands.

She backed away, panting from the adrenaline rush of the sprint, and didn't see the car coming until she was dazed and lying on the hood.

_I'm done for._

* * *

She woke in a hospital bed, frightened because she did not know how she got there. Sitting up proved to be the wrong choice, because her head was near to exploding in pain, making her stomach lurch.

"Jean."

She flinched, it was Emma.

"We've come to take you with us."

"How do I know you aren't Mystique," her arms shook as she tried to stay sitting upright.

"Check my mind," Emma replied.

Jean shook her head. "It hurts too much."

"Your name is in the database, you must go now."

Jean was on the verge of tears, she ached inside and out.

"I'll take your word, Emma. Get me out of here."

Emma had her dressed and the i.v. bags concealed in minutes, Betsy had been talking to the doctors and signing her out, falling into step with Emma and the wheelchair.

"How are you doing?"

"Not well, not well at all," Jean whispered.

* * *

"You think she's okay," Scott asked from the doorway to the rec room.

"She seems to land on her feet," Logan muttered.

"Why didn't we go after her?"

"Because she'll come to us on her own, or not at all," Logan sipped his beer.

"So you understand her," Scott smirked.

"I know what its like to be pursued, not knowing what side is right."

"Usually it was whoever paid more, right?"

"That's before Charlie got ahold of me, turned me into a do-gooder."

Scott chuckled. "Whatever it is you do, Logan, I wouldn't call it do-gooder just yet. Is the game any good?"

Logan shrugged, glancing over as Scott's phone rang.

"Summers...yeah, right, bye."

"Somethin' tells me I'm not gonna like it," Logan muttered.

"Emma called."

"Ah hell," Logan chugged his beer down, and grabbed another.

Scott got up from the chair when the gate bell buzzed, Logan sauntered to the window, his eyebrow raised upon seeing a familiar car pull up to the door.

"She's a nuisance, went teke-y in the car! My very expensive car!"

"Busted the windows," Betsy grinned.

"Maybe for picking up strays, you should get an old beater instead," Scott smiled.

"If you want her, you can have her!"

Logan left his beer on the foyer table, and descended the steps. Jean was asleep on the backseat, and covered in bruises.

"What-" Logan growled, turning to see Betsy standing beside him.

"She was hit by a car. Luckily she ended up on the hood, just banged up good and proper."

He opened the door and reached in, removing her from the car carefully. She roused, blinking through blurry eyes.

"Where'm I," she mumbled.

"I gotcha darlin'," he muttered. "You're home now."

Betsy walked up the stairs, giving Scott a smile as she handed Jean's bag over.

"Good luck," he smiled, watching Emma slam the driver's side door, glass shards falling to the pavement.

"She'll get over it. Later," she waved, and jogged down to the steps.

Scott joined Logan in the infirmary, while Hank checked on Jean.

"She is in good shape after being struck by a car, stars and garters."

"Concussion?"

"Most definitely," Hank replied, attaching fresh i.v. bags to her existing lines. "She needs rest, she's under weight and anemic."

"I'll stay with her," Logan stated.

"Alright, if anything happens-"

"I know where to find you," Logan took a seat in the chair next to the bed.

* * *

Jean sighed, she was warm and comfortable. Stretching out her arms, her eyes snapped open at the pain on the intravenous lines being pulled.

"You okay, Jean?"

She turned to see Logan in the chair next to the bed she lay in, feet propped up on the siderails.

"Where's...Emma? More importantly, where am I?"

"Xavier's Institute for Gifted Youngsters. It's a Mutant school."

"And Emma," she prompted.

"You surpassed her expectations, couldn't handle you."

"What did I do," her eyebrow cocked in interest.

"Broke out all the windows of her car," Logan leaned on the siderails with a smirk.

"Oh no, I didn't," she sank back into the pillows.

"Hank thinks it was from the bump on your head," he brushed the hair away from the bruise near her headline. "How you feelin'?"

"I'm...better, I think."

"Hungry?"

"Yes."

"Good answer," Logan pushed a button next to her bed. "Anybody up?"

"We're makin' breakfast Logan," a thick-as-molasses southern accent replied over the intercom.

"Rogue, bring down a plate for our new houseguest," he requested, and sat in the chair.

"What about you," Jean asked.

"I'm good."

The bay doors slid open to allow a young woman into the room with a white-blond shock of hair standing out among auburn waves, elbow-length gloves, and brown eyes fixed on Jean.

"Brought you coffee, Logan."

"I appreciate it," Logan spoke as if she were excused, and cleared his throat as she continued to inspect Jean while setting up the tray table. "Rogue."

"Yes, Logan."

"It's not nice to stare," he growled.

"Ya think you' can still scare me like ahm eight years old," Rogue just smiled and left the room.

Jean smiled, and picked up her fork, instantly going green.

"You okay?"

"I don't like bacon, at all," she muttered, ashamed that she was being picky when they were showing her hospitality.

Logan picked up the three pieces of bacon and ate them himself, washing them down with a long drink of coffee.

"Better?"

"Thanks."

"You'll be strong enough once you get a few of Rogue's meals into you," Logan poured another cup of coffee.

"Is that your girlfriend," she smiled.

Logan almost choked on his coffee, clearing his throat. "She's like a daughter to me, and a terrible flirt."

"Sorry," her cheeks colored, focusing on eating the breakfast of eggs and toast in front of her.

"You'll get it all figured out soon," Logan took the carafe of coffee from the table, and smiled when Jean looked unhappy at her chance gone by. "You can have coffee when you're better."

"Can I take a shower, change into some clothes?"

"When you're finished, and when you answer something for me."

"What," she gave him a wary look.

"You done runnin'?"

"I don't know."

Logan nodded, walking out of the infirmary with his cup and the carafe in hand. "I'll send someone down to help you get ready."


	5. You Know Damn Well

Jean brushed a hand over the elaborate fishbone braid Ororo insisted on trying out on her hair, since apparently the younger women of the house couldn't bear to sit still long enough when there were boys to chase and trouble to get into. Too sore to finish brushing her own hair, Ororo had silently taken over with no resistance from Jean, who sat as happy as a cat in a patch of sunlight with the simple act of kindness. She felt a bit drab in her all-black clothing compared with the radiant white hair, cocoa skin, and form-hugging outfit of her new acquaintance; still, it was impossible to feel uncomfortable around the soft-spoken woman, even standing in silence as the elevator climbed floors.

"Thank you, I'm sure you had better things to do than baby-sit a grown woman who is inept at showering unsupervised," Jean gave her a bashful smile.

"Better than getting another head injury because you passed out," Ororo smiled in return, stepping out onto the ground floor.

"Being found naked on the shower floor is not really the impression I'd want…to-"

Jean tried to keep her amazement in check as she took in the view of the mansion with wide eyes. Dark wood banisters that looked soft as velveteen, high ceilings, and a large fireplace in a room she couldn't help rubbernecking as they walked past.

"This is where you _live_?"

"It's comfortable," Ororo replied.

"Comfortable? Where's the last place you lived, Taj Mahal?"

"I guess I've been here too long, it's no more than a normal home to me anymore," Ororo shrugged. "If, at the end of your convalescence you decide to stay, there are rooms available upstairs."

Jean followed Ororo into the kitchen, accepting a bottle of juice.

"Hank wants you well, and we never ignore direct orders like that," Ororo smiled.

"I'll try my best to choke down every bit of food thrust at me," Jean took a sip of the juice.

"I AM IRON MAN!"

They turned toward the door as it swung open violently; a tall dirty blond man passed Jean and promptly stuck his head in the fridge.

"Actually Bobby, you're Iceman. Tony wouldn't like you calling yourself that."

"I rocked that session today, Ro," he grinned.

Jean watched a few more people come into the room looking like they had come back from a workout.

"Oh, here he is. You could barely tell by the gloating we could hear from the moon," a petite girl smiled.

"You were good ahn-point tahday," Rogue caught a bottle of water Bobby tossed to her.

"I know, even Logan was impressed," Bobby was a happy-go-lucky guy regardless, Jean could tell that. But Logan's praise meant a lot to him. "Hey, it's the new prisoner," Bobby finally saw Jean, and all eyes turned on her.

"I'm tellin' Tony you said that," Logan walked into the room, elbowing Bobby out of the way to get to the fridge himself.

"Oh come on, like you haven't said I'm Adamantium Man," Bobby smirked at Logan.

"I'm cooler than that," he grunted.

"Hey Logan, check it out. This is Jean, my new best friend," Bobby slung an arm around her shoulder.

"I'd congratulate you on your ever-evolving people skills but I'm the one who told you about her," Logan smirked.

"Sorry, he's kinda…friendly," the petite young woman smiled in sympathy.

"Kinda like a puppy," Jean supplied.

"What! NO, I'm Iron Man!"

"Puppy Boy," the petite girl smiled at Jean.

"Yeah, well Puppy Boy chases cats," he smiled at the young woman.

"Funny, my name is Kitty…hahaha," she deadpanned.

"Just one of the many perks of living here, comedians," Logan muttered to her, making Jean laugh.

"Logan, phone call," Scott came into the room.

"Who the hell wants to talk to me now?"

"Chase, that's who," Scott replied.

Logan's relaxed stance became tense, and he left the room without a word.

"You're looking a bit tired," Ororo spoke to Jean quietly.

"I am," she smiled.

"Let's get you back to bed, then."

Jean knew she was still on the mend, because she didn't put up a fight.

* * *

Logan had just stepped off the small private jet when he saw Scott and Jean walking across the tarmac toward him, his thoughts on cold beer and cigars were dashed at seeing Jean in the open.  
"How was Madripoor," Scott asked.  
"Crazy as ever. What's she doin' here," he growled, giving her a full body once-over.  
"She was gettin' a little crazy sticking to the grounds, so I let her come."  
"She could have run off," he muttered none too quietly.  
"I'm standing right here," she announced.  
"Yeah, I see ya," he smirked. "You're a flight risk."  
"How little faith you have in me, Logan," she smirked.  
"Feelin' better, then?"  
"Hank gave me a clean bill of health a week after you left," Jean answered.  
"You look good."  
"Good how," she asked with a smile.  
"Doc knows his stuff," Logan shouldered his bag and stalked off.  
Jean looked to Scott with a helpless expression, he shrugged.  
"I guess you were right, he isn't really that nice," she muttered, glad to see Logan's back stiffen up at hearing her comment.  
Scott opened his mouth to protest, but saw a quick grin of triumph upon seeing Logan holding the door open for her to climb into the backseat of Scott's sports car. They had some sort of strange something going on that appeared to be an attraction, but it happened to Logan so rarely…Scott even wondered if he had seen Logan with a serious crush. Could you even call it a crush when it came to Logan? Was it more of an infatuation? Scott was disturbed that he was still thinking about it, and decided to just drive home and ignore them both.  
Until Jean opened her mouth.  
She leaned forward, resting her arms on the back of Logan's seat.  
"So, what were you doing in Madripoor?"  
"A friend needed some help," Logan replied.  
"Is he always this secretive," she asked Scott.  
"Do you have to ask," he smiled.  
"It's easier talkin' to a brick wall," she answered, sitting back in the seat.

Jean breezed past Logan as he let her out of the backseat, running up the stairs and into the mansion like it was her home.

"Have you talked to her about staying?"

"Should I," an eyebrow rose over his visor.  
"This isn't a halfway house for runaways," Logan growled.

"Actually, you were in her position once-"

"You know what I mean. I stepped up and pulled my weight, more than my share."

"She's only been here three weeks," Scott reasoned.

"Charlie was lookin' for my allegiance from minute one," Logan shot back.

"I think she kinda gets to you," Scott smirked.

"She's trouble."

"You like trouble," Scott opened the trunk.

Logan grunted, getting a laugh out of Scott.

"I think she'll stay."

"You do?"

"She's made friends; I think she knows she can trust us."

"You shouldn't have let her come," Logan stubbornly grunted.

"Wearin' that skirt?"

"Yeah-wait, what did you say?"

"I think I hear Storm calling me, needs my help," Scott smiled, walking away.

"She is not."

"Mmm, I think so. I'm just gonna go now…" Scott jogged off.

"I know where you sleep, Summers," Logan bellowed.


	6. There's No One Like You

Logan barely blinked when Kurt teleported into his bedroom.

"How was Munich, Elf?"

Kurt wandered about Logan's room, humming a song to himself. "Did you say something?"

"Munich," he arched an eyebrow.

"Oh, fine…fine."

"What's up with you," Logan asked.

"I think I'm in love," Kurt grinned.

"Oh yeah? Who's the lucky woman?"

"The redhead downstairs," Kurt replied.

"Jean? Kurt, you don't even know her," Logan's voice was tight with restraint.

"Don't have to know any more than I do, I'm in love," he repeated teleporting over to Logan's bed.

"Look, Kurt I know she's attractive and all…"

"Attractive? Aphrodite pales in comparison to her," Kurt sighed, rolling onto his back.

Logan rolled his eyes, drawing a frustrated hand over his face. Kurt was a poetic kind of guy, who was infatuated with sweeping, epic romances and daring heroes, fancying himself the latter.

"Wagner, would ya get your head outta your-the clouds for just a minute," he growled.

Kurt sat up on his knees. "Why should I? I 'port into the mansion and the first thing I see is this beauty. Its fate, kismet, I'm head over heels-"he clutched at his heart dramatically.

"Get a grip, man! It's just a woman," he roared, pacing the floor as he dragged his fingers through his hair.

He heard Kurt chuckle, and looked over his shoulder. Kurt sat back on his heels, grinning at his surly friend.

"Methinks Logan's found the Elizabeth to his Darcy."

"Wha," he exhaled.

"Just wanted to see if Scott's observation was right," Kurt's pointy-toothed grin turned to one of gleeful panic and smoke as Logan took a swipe at him.

Logan heard Kurt's telltale BAMF! on the other side of his bedroom door and wrenched it open, nearly taking it off the hinges.

"I'm gonna skin you and make you into a toque for wintertime!"

Jean stood there frozen to the spot, eyes wide from the unexpected outburst.

"What did I do?"

"Not you, I was just-" he scrambled to think of something else to say.

"Hey Jean, come downstairs! Its game night," Bobby ran past her with a box under his arm.

"We are not playing Monopoly again," Rogue sprinted after Bobby with a fierce determination to get that box under his arm. Jean didn't wait for Logan to collect himself, following Bobby and Rogue without another word.

Logan leaned on the doorjamb, smacking his head against the wood. Kurt walked upstairs, looking sheepish.

"I am sorry, Logan."

"It's alright, Wagner," Logan sighed, still bashing his head into the doorjamb.

Kurt placed his furred hand in place of the wood to make Logan stop.

"I couldn't have planned that worse if I tried," Kurt continued.

"She probably expected it of me anyway."

"That's no way to talk!"

"Don't worry about it, Kurt," Logan muttered, sitting on the corner of his bed.

"Don't let it discourage you, it was a simple accident."

"Except accidents don't happen to me, I have rotten luck with women," he scratched at his chops, looking at Kurt like 'you know that it's true'.

"So show her you aren't all business."

"I am all business!"

"So go downstairs and try not being all business," Kurt replied firmly.

"I'm not going to go play _board games_," he snorted.

"You don't have a lot of time to repair the problem at hand."

"I'll fix it when I can get her alone," Logan lay back on his bed, frustrated.

"Oh, so you're the dummkopf that can only be nice to her when there's no one around," Kurt rolled his yellow eyes.

"Yeah, and either it works or it doesn't," Logan growled.

"Go downstairs, and apologize right now!"

Logan was on his feet lightning-quick, nose to nose with Kurt. "Did you just try and tell me what to do?"

"Ja, now go!"

Logan stood there glaring at Kurt, and then suddenly smirked.

"Thanks, Kurt."

"No problem," he shrugged. "You could try doing what I say, just this once."

"I'll give it a shot, no promises," he replied, clapping Kurt on the shoulder as he passed.

Logan trudged downstairs, considering what he would say. The rec room was a mass of sound as everyone delegated what game would be played.

"Mon-op-oh-LEEE!"

"No! Trivial Pursuit!"

"Connect Four!"

"Oh, now that's just lame," a few people yelled back.

Jean sat with her back to the doorway, legs folded under herself. Logan waited until she turned her head, sensing that he was there. He jerked his head and walked away before anyone saw him there, waiting in the kitchen. She pushed open the door, and walked to the fridge.

"Talk."

"I didn't mean you," he stated.

"Okay," she took a can of soda out of the fridge and turned to leave.

"Jean."

"What," she looked at him warily.

"Kurt was just givin' me a hard time."

"So you were going to kill Kurt," she tilted her head.

"Yes, no! He's a good friend; he just nudged me a little too close to the edge."

"The edge of what?"

"He was joking that he was in love with you, he's a prankster like that," he gripped the granite countertop behind him.

"And that got you nudged to the edge-" she looked to him with a smirk. "You like me."

"Sure, you're okay."

"No, you _like me_," she grinned.

Logan growled, looking away from her.

"Say it," she teased.

He snorted.

"Oh come on, say you like me," she poked his side playfully.

He grabbed her wrist, pulling her close. She kissed him quickly, and made her escape.

Logan stood there for a moment, the edges of his mouth curling up into a satisfied smirk.


	7. You Lose Control

"Hey Logan-why aren't you ready?"

"Not going."

"Why not," Jean asked.

"Someone has to keep watch," Logan responded as if it were the most natural answer to that question.

"And you just happen to hate carnivals," she smiled.

"Too many people, too many smells," he made a face, watching her examine his sparse room.

"I could stay behind, keep you company," she suggested, a naughty smile on her lips.

"Who would watch the mansion," he smirked,

"Unless Charles has the funds to make the mansion also grow legs and walk off, I doubt its going anywhere," she answered, laughing as he pulled her flush against his body.

"You've been lookin' forward to this since Bobby mentioned cotton candy."

"I can stand the disappointment."

"Go have fun, darlin'."

"Denied," Jean stepped back.

"Now wait a minute," Logan yanked her close and kissed her.

Reconsidering having some company Logan took a step back toward his bed when Jean abruptly broke away.

"What the-" he fell back onto the bed as a group of students passed by. "The door was closed, ya realize."

"I don't know who just barges in here," she reasoned.

"Nobody," he grabbed her around the waist.

"I did."

"I have them trained," Logan smirked.

Kurt teleported into the room. "Hallo."

"Trained, huh."

"I thought you might be here, Jean. We're ready to go," Kurt seemed happy enough to be interrupting them.

"Kurt, I'm a telepath," she laughed.

"Oh ja, I know that. I just know what he's like," Kurt jerked his head toward Logan.

"She propositioned me," Logan defended.

"When you say it like that, the offer is withdrawn," Jean smirked.

'Now who's doin' the denyin'," Logan arched an eyebrow.

"We should go," Jean grabbed Kurt by the jacket and smiled at Logan.

Jean had just gotten off a ride when she turned around and Kitty wasn't behind her.

"Kitty," she called.

"Jean!"

She spun around, immediately sick with fear as she saw Kitty held tight to the side of Toad, who sneered at Jean.

'_Brotherhood_' Jean whispered into the minds of the X-Men. Knowing this was a lure only to get her, Jean walked calmly after the bad-smelling nuisance. As if her animal instincts were waking up, her mind immediately entered the minds of the crowd, willing them to block Toad in at every possible exit, and herd him back towards the assembling team.

Toad dragged Kitty into the funhouse mirrors; though he was quick Jean had the obvious advantage with her telepathy. Listening to Kitty's frantic repetition of each twist and turn Jean had Toad's jacket grasped in her fist in seconds.

"Oi, you!"

"Who else would it be?"

He shoved her into a mirror, the mirror splintering into spider web patterns under the force of Jean's shoulder colliding. Kitty had spun out of his hold, wrapped her hand around the other and brought it around with the spin onto Toad's neck.

"Go, Kitty," Jean ordered, watching Toad get to his feet.

"I can't leave you!"

"Go," Jean demanded.

"When I get you back to Magneto-" Toad grinned.

"Hate to change your plans, I'm not going anywhere," she dodged a punch, gasping as a sharp pain met her side. Toad had grabbed a piece of glass and stabbed her with it.

"Uncalled for," Jean gasped.

"I don't fight fair," he smirked.

"Good, we have something in common," Jean put her hand to his chest and gave him a mental shove, sending him through a half dozen panes of mirror.

"Jean," Scott called.

"In here!"

"You should have let us in on your plan, we-" Scott stopped as he saw her staring down at the glass, her face bone white.

"Get me home."

"Sure thing.

Scott carried Jean through the front door as she cried out from the wound being jostled. Wolverine watched as Scott took her away, and advanced on Storm.

"What happened."

"Unexpected company," she replied.

"How bad is it?"

"A piece of glass, we didn't remove it just in case, no one could tell how long it might be."

Logan crossed his arms over a broad expanse of hairy chest.

"She went after him alone."

"We need her on the team. Imagine Charles with all the physical capabilities. She got the crowd to create blocks so Toad couldn't get Kitty very far," Storm explained.

"Mind control."

"Logan, she is untrained. She's lucky her will didn't push those people too far."

"I'll talk to her once Hank is done."

"Feel up to having a guest?"

"I don't see the harm in it," Jean smiled as Logan walked around the drawn curtain.

"How you feelin'?"

"Like I got stabbed. You?"

"Like I had a heart attack."

"You should have let me stay behind," Jean teased.

"Jean, you have to choose. This is your life, and they want to take that choice from you. Here, you have people to watch over you. But we can't only be your bodyguards, any one of us could be in your position tomorrow."

"You don't really have the easing-into-it part of conversational skills down yet," Jean smirked.

"It's getting' serious, darlin'. There's no time for being nice," he growled.

"When I was at the carnival, and I saw Toad with Kitty. I knew my answer, Logan."

His eyebrow rose as if to say 'so spit it out'.

"I'll stay, be part of the team."

"We start training as soon as you're healed. Charles will be your coach for telepathy and teke as soon as you're ready."

"Question," Jean spoke up.

"Shoot."

"Could you stand to guard my body for a little while?"

"I have time," Logan smiled, crawling onto the bed next to her.

"Ouch," Jean pushed his hand away from her hip.

"Sorry! I didn't think to ask."

"I got stabbed, right here."

"Let's see the battle wound, then."

Jean pushed the blankets away and moved her infirmary gown to the side.

"He got you good," Logan commented, examining the stitches and the smooth skin nowhere near the wound.

"You're tellin' me, I'm lucky it wasn't a bigger piece of glass or else it may have ruptured something. Then I would've been mad!"

"_Then_ you would have been mad," he chuckled.

"Yes, or dead."

Logan caressed her hip, and she pushed his hand away.

"What."

"It's impolite to feel up the wounded," she smiled.

"It's allowed," he growled with a smirk.

"It is," she bit her lip as he moved his hand up to her stomach.

"It's the rules here, you'll learn in time," he kissed her throat.

"Because I can't defend myself."

"Sleep awhile," he ordered softly, brushing his mouth over her neck.

"Like that will happen," Jean smiled, turning to meet his mouth with hers.


	8. Wait For The Sign

Logan stood in front of Charles' desk; hands behind his back like the old soldier in him would always stand. Charles watched Logan carefully, weighing the request to send Jean away as soon as possible.

"She has been making progress," Charles reasoned.

"Not enough," Logan replied firmly.

"She is still on the mend from that injury, Logan. We don't heal as you do."

"I didn't come to this decision lightly, Charles."

"There isn't a problem between you two, is there?"

"I want her to-it's for her to be at her best," he corrected.

"Why Emma and Elizabeth," Charles tried not to smile, he knew what Logan thought of the fringe teams.

"Because they are the kinds of telepaths we'll need her to be. She hasn't been here since her powers manifested, and that on top of her being the most important addition to Magneto's collection indicates she needs an accelerated course."

"I agree."

"I'll tell her."

"Are you sure, Logan?"

"Yes," he responded with strain in his voice.

"I will inform Emma and Elizabeth to be ready," Charles was just picking up the hpone as Logan went immediately to Jean's bedroom.

Logan knocked on Jean's door, trying to maintain his soldier attitude.

"Hey you," she smiled, and he was done for.

"Darlin'," he sighed.

"What is it," she asked, her smile faltering.

"I got some bad news."

"Okay, tell me."

"You're going to stay with Betsy and Emma."

"I don't understand, why do this when I just got started? I chose the X-Men."

"You are X-Men, you just need more intense training than Charles and I can give."

"Then I'll go to Charles and tell him I won't go," she brushed past Logan.

He grabbed her arm gently. "It was my idea. It's a done deal."

"I'm tired of running," she whispered.

"It's only for a little while. They can make you as good as me in just a few months' time."

"Months," she repeated with a tone of disbelief.

"You have a lot of catchin' up to do, darlin'."

"I have friends here!"

"They'll be here when you get back," Logan sighed with exasperation.

"What about you?"

"I live here," he answered.

"You know what I mean," she eyed him closely.

"We haven't even had a date yet," he felt out of place saying something like that, let alone without it being 'his way' of saying so.

"Yeah, whose fault is that?"

"Hey, don't you-"

"Too concerned with how it looks to everyone else," she continued on.

"I'm not the only one who keeps their distance, Jean."

"I don't cling like other women my age, Logan. I'm not goin' to do that to you," she opened her closet pulled out an armful of clothes along with her black duffle bag.

"Darlin', I want you to be confident in your abilities and trained to take care of yourself so that you never have to run away again."

"When do I leave?"

"Whenever you're ready," he answered as pointedly as she asked her question.

Jean said her goodbyes after she was packed, refusing to look Logan in the eye as they walked to the car where Scott and Ororo were waiting."

"Is this to make sure I go quietly?"

"Your very own motorcade," Scott smiled.

* * *

"Jean dear, come in," Emma smiled.

Betsy took her bag with a smile, Ororo and Scott gave her a hug and stood back, watching Logan stand there still.

"Let's go check the car, Ro," Scott suggested.

Emma and Betsy made their excuses, leaving Logan and Jean alone.

"Here," he held out a piece of folded paper.

"Thanks."

"Aren't you gonna ask what it is?"

"I figured you'd tell me anyway."

"It's the phone number to the mansion. Anytime you want to talk."

"Thank you," she said quietly.

Logan leaned in to kiss her, unable to help pulling back when he sensed they had an audience.

"I'm just not big on bein' showy," he muttered, giving her a lingering kiss.

He broke away after she responded with a sigh, and looked to Emma and Betsy.

"I'm trusting you with her."

"We'll give her back in better shape than you left her," Emma assured him.

"Good."

Logan closed the door behind himself.

"Let's get to work," Betsy spoke up, taking Jean's bag to her new room.


	9. Do Not Deny

Logan paced the floor of the kitchen, staring down the phone. Most might think that there wasn't a whole lot of thought running through his head when he wasn't fighting, and even though he could confide in Kurt a few personal things, Logan left certain subjects to conversation within himself.

_Call. It's been six weeks,_ Reason urged.

_She's busy, she'll call when she has time_, Logan thought, reaching into the fridge for a beer.

_She might be waiting for you to call_, nagged Reason.

_She's waiting for you to call_.

_And she's mad it's been six weeks,_ Reason reprimanded him.

_Women._

_Gorgeous redhead, who's had her fair share of bullshit these past few months, be the one that treats her good._

He picked up the phone and dialed the number, impatiently waiting through two rings.

"Hello," a breathless voice answered.

"Answering the phones already," Logan replied.

"Logan,' Jean smiled.

"So, give me a progress report."

"I'm fine, thanks. How are you," she replied with amused irritation.

"Business first," he smirked.

"Talk to Emma and Betsy about my progress, you will want to grill me for hours on how they teach me to stand."

"Then hand the phone over."

"Fine. Betsy, Logan wants to know how I'm doing!'

"I'll pick up in here," Betsy called from the office.

Emma rolled her eyes as she came up from the Danger Room.

"This is not a high school."

"I know that perfectly well, Emma."

"You won't be on the phone with him for hours."

"I'm only two years younger than you, Emma. Care to treat me like I'm not _in_ high school?"

"It is not conducive to getting you trained if he's calling you at all hours," Emma replied.

"Note, he called me for the first time since I got here. Just now, and I'm not even talking _to_ him," Jean made a disgusted face.

"Betsy, give the baby the phone back," Emma smirked, making squishy faces at Jean.

"He is intense," Betsy walked with the phone held to her chest.

"Gimmie," Jean reached for the phone.

"If I didn't just have my whole training questioned over the phone, I'd play keep away with this," Betsy handed back the phone with a grin.

"Shoo fly," Jean took the phone, waiting until her mentors left. "Satisfied?"

"Not in a long time," Logan muttered.

"What," Jean laughed.

"Now, you will give me a progress report," Logan ordered.

"I'm bruised and sore, but I'm strong. The fine motor skills with my teke are stellar. I can manipulate knots with a rope, blindfolded."

"Okay, business done."

"I miss you," Jean smiled.

"You'll be back before you know it," he assured her, feeling a tight pain in his chest.

"You can't wait to have me back," Jean pointed out.

"I'm patient," he responded gruffly.

"You shouldn't have told me to go to that carnival," she teased.

"That telekinetic exercise has me intrigued," he grinned.

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah, ya might think about bringin' those back with you."

"Logan, are you talkin' dirty," she grinned, her face turning red.

"Might be. I- " Logan cut off as a few of the X-Men came into the kitchen.

"You called me from the kitchen?"

"Yeah."

"You do know your room has a phone," Jean reminded.

"Just coming to that realization now," he muttered.

"You usually think of things like that beforehand."

"Yeah, usually."

"Logan's talkin' to his girlfriend," Bobby stage-whispered the absolute most-obvious observation to the rest of the room.

"I have an audience," he growled.

"Even if you run to your room…" Jean sighed.

"Worn out, darlin'?"

"I ache in places I didn't think I _could_ ache."

"Go take a hot bath, and take some drugs."

"Lookit, my boyfriend the pusher," Jean laughed.

"You know what I mean."

"Why thank you Emma for that line of cocaine, I will take a sniff, don't mind if I do," Jean continued.

"Don't take anything from her, ever."

"Are you serious," Jean dropped her jaw in shock.

"I'm not the only one who can joke," Logan chuckled. "I'll call you again in a few days."

"How many is a few," Jean asked.

"Five."

Jean whimpered.

"Three."

"Okay, okay."

"Go take care of yourself."

"Oh all right. Goodnight Logan."

"Night," he replied and hung up, wincing as he turned to the pairs of eyes watching him.

"What."

"You have a girlfriend," Storm mused.

"You talk to her nice, kinda," Kitty's eyes were wide.

"A real girlfriend," Bobby seemed genuinely flabbergasted.

Logan left the room growling.

* * *

"I don't know what you see in him," Emma watched Jean as she smiled.

"That's because you don't go for Logan's type," Jean answered, hopping off the kitchen counter.

"Yes, let's all be thankful for that."

"Hallelujah," Jean threw her arms up in celebration.

Emma was exhausted by Jean's relentless humor and general oddities, Betsy thought she was so cute, and encouraged her all too much for Emma's taste.

"I'm going to take a shower and get to bed."

"Sleep well, Jean."


	10. Come Into My Life

Logan left his room as the sudden commotion from downstairs peaked his curiosity.

"Let me take your bag," Scott insisted.

Kitty ran past Logan up the stairs.

"You got a haircut," Ororo exclaimed.

"What's goin' on?"

Storm turned toward Logan's voice, revealing Jean standing in the midst of X-Men.

"Wha-"

"I'm home," Jean smiled.

"I see that."

"I went over your head. Charles thought I learned my lessons well."

"You're gonna be proving that in the Danger Room later," Logan smirked.

"It's a Christmas miracle, home for the holidays," Bobby shot into the room on an ice slide, tackling Jean to the carpet.

"I said no ice slides in the house," Ororo warned with lightning in her eyes.

"Sorry."

"That's a neat trick," Jean laughed as he helped pick her up.

"You don't know the half of it!"

Jean was ushered into the kitchen, Ororo smiled as Logan glared at her.

"Very funny."

"You can have her later," Ororo teased.

"You all get to touch her before I do, and she's _my_ woman."

"Oh, stop being such a caveman."

"Wait until you can't have an uninterrupted minute with someone you haven't seen in three months."

"We won't keep her forever. You can come into the kitchen," Ororo chuckled.

"What's the point when you'll keep dangling her out of my reach the whole time," he growled.

"I won't let them do that to you the _whole time_," Ororo was having too much fun making Logan angry.

"Oh, thanks."

Logan went straight to the fridge, guzzling down a beer as Jean caught up with everyone at the table. Though he had lived in the mansion for years now, not all of his 'unpolished' manners were gone, and right now, he wanted Jean to himself. So he drained his second beer, walked to the table, and took hold of her hand.

"Hey!"

"Save it, you'll see her later."

The last thing Logan heard was Ororo and Scott laughing.

"Hi."

"Hey darlin'," he smirked, pulling her into a deep kiss.

Jean sank against his chest, happy to be close to him again. She broke away only to run toward the elevator to the lower levels, dodging to avoid his swipe at her waist, only to be caught as she backed into the elevator with a grin.

"Jean," Logan murmured her name, kissing her throat.

She laughed, running her fingernails along his spine. "Missed me a little?"

"You don't know the half of it," he nipped her neck.

"Behave! You're supposed to try and beat me in the Danger Room," she shoved him away with help from her teke, setting up a practice session.

"Can't we just, wait a minute," he snuck up behind her.

"No, I wanna show you," she slipped out of his grip again.

Logan groaned, but shook off his hormones long enough to focus on the task at hand. They were teamed against a group of assailants in a junkyard, who did not hesitate to attack. Jean took out the first two with practiced ease, no powers needed, and got into a sparring match with a higher level of difficulty, taking the next out by tossing him away with her teke. Logan plowed through the Danger Room assailants, punching, stabbing, but able to keep Jean's progress in his peripheral vision. Emma and Betsy had done their job, she moved without hesitation, something the X-Men needed in a Mutant like her. He couldn't always be there to keep her safe, and he couldn't worry about her on the field. When Logan sliced through the last attacker, the Danger Room went back to neutral, leaving them panting where they stood.

"I like your hair," he commented.

"That's all you have to say, you sonofa-" she shouted, taking a running leap at him.

Logan laughed as they fell to the floor, Jean used her power to pin his hands above his head.

"I got you a present," he smiled.

"You don't think I'm good enough, do you," she demanded.

"You pass, now can I get up and get your present?"

"Really," Jean was suspicious of a trap.

"Really," he smirked.

She released his wrists, sitting back on her heels. Logan reached into his back pocket, handing her a small manila envelope.

"You open it."

"Logan," she rolled her eyes, watching him take the envelope back and shake the contents out onto his palm.

"You got this for me," Jean touched the delicate 'X' that was attached to the silver chain necklace.

"Braved the jewelry store an' everything."

Jean threw her arms around his neck and kissed him.

"So, you like it," Logan laughed.

"Yes, put it on," she gathered her hair up into her hands and left her neck bare. Logan latched the clasp, his satisfied smile faltering.

"Darlin'?"

"They can't give us a moment's peace," Jean sighed, turning as the doors to the Danger Room opened.

Scott stood there, the team running toward the staging area.

"Time to go to work."


	11. No One's Gonna Take Me

Jean took her seat on the Blackbird, securing her belt with her teke.

"I'll be fine," she spoke without needing to know who watched her with concern.

The flight was short, the Brotherhood had chosen a clearing near Xavier's property.

"This goes against code, Magneto," Logan snarled as soon as his boot hit grass.

"Then you know I'm serious about acquiring the girl."

"Save your minions the pain and go home," Storm threatened.

Sabretooth lashed out, catching Logan across the face with his claws.

"Always the cheap shots," Logan chuckled humorlessly.

They clashed together like a pantheon of gods, power against power, drawling blood, trying to put the Brotherhood on the defensive. Jean was like smoke, slipping past friend and foe on light steps.

She was after Magneto.

Raising her hand, she forced all of her power out to him, coiling around him like thick vines. She had asked Betsy what she could do that could get through to Magneto, but with no answers, she had to experiment on her own.

"You cannot do anything to me," he drawled.

"Watch me."

His feet left the ground, and as Jean forced him higher into the air, the fight died around them. Manipulating the area around Magneto seemed to work just fine.

"Jean," Logan called.

"You've become greater than even I expected, Jean. So much so that you're ready to kill, no so different from the people you say you oppose."

"I do oppose you; this is only a taste of what I could do to you if you break code again."

Jean placed him on the ground and headed back to the Blackbird.

* * *

"Jean?"

Even for Logan she couldn't look up from her curled up position on her seat, she hadn't figured in the drain on her physical form when she planned to show Magneto what he was really dealing with.

"Is she ok?"

"Just sit, let's get home."

When the Blackbird landed, everyone left except Logan. He sat in his seat with elbows resting on his knees.

"I'm sorry."

"For," he asked.

"What I did out there," she sighed.

"Don't be sorry for that. You showed him what you're prepared to do to keep your life on your terms."

"I wanted to kill him, as much as Betsy and Emma taught me to keep control. I wanted to."

"You're preachin' to the choir darlin'. I can't count the number of times Creed and I tried to end each other. I understand it, Jean."

He looked up when he felt her hand on his shoulder.

"I'm not terrible?"

"No darlin', you aren't terrible," Logan stood and kissed her.

"Do ya want to go to the party they have planned for me," Jean asked, smiling as Logan rubbed her back.

"We can be fashionably late. Just act surprised, or Bobby will cry."

"They should know better. Telepath, hello!"

"Quick change, and meet in the garage?"

"Race you," she smiled.

* * *

Logan opened the door leading to the garage, seeing Jean balanced on his motorcycle, spinning the keys around her finger.

"You cheated."

"I took a shortcut, that's not cheating."

"You gonna sit there all night."

Jean dropped her legs onto either side, Logan smiled as he slipped the keys off her outstretched finger.

"It's gonna be interesting with you here, I'll say that much."

"Just what you needed," she wrapped her arms around his waist as he settled onto the seat.


End file.
